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SHIRLEY
some additional remark. Smiling in his way, with that expression which gave a remarkable cast of sweetness to his mouth,
while his brow remained grave, he would answer to the effect
that himself too trusted in the finite nature of the war; that it
was indeed on that ground the anchor of his hopes was fixed;
thereon his speculations depended. “For you are aware,” he
would continue, “that I now work Hollow’s Mill entirely on
speculation. I sell nothing; there is no market for my goods.
I manufacture for a future day. I make myself ready to take
advantage of the first opening that shall occur. Three months
ago this was impossible to me; I had exhausted both credit and
capital. You well know who came to my rescue, from what hand
I received the loan which saved me. It is on the strength of that
loan I am enabled to continue the bold game which, a while
since, I feared I should never play more. Total ruin I know will
follow loss, and I am aware that gain is doubtful; but I am quite
cheerful. So long as I can be active, so long as I can strive, so
long, in short, as my hands are not tied, it is impossible for me
to be depressed. One year – nay, but six months – of the reign
of the olive, and I am safe; for, as you say, peace will give an impulse to commerce. In this you are right; but as to the restored
tranquillity of the neighbourhood, as to the permanent good
effect of your charitable fund, I doubt. Eleemosynary relief
never yet tranquillized the working classes – it never made
them grateful; it is not in human nature that it should. I suppose, were all things ordered aright, they ought not to be in a
position to need that humiliating relief; and this they feel. We
should feel it were we so placed. Besides, to whom should they
be grateful? To you, to the clergy perhaps, but not to us mill
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CHARLOTTE BRONTE
owners. They hate us worse than ever. Then the disaffected
here are in correspondence with the disaffected elsewhere.
Nottingham is one of their headquarters, Manchester another,
Birmingham a third. The subalterns receive orders from their
chiefs; they are in a good state of discipline; no blow is struck
without mature deliberation. In sultry weather you have seen
the sky threaten thunder day by day, and yet night after night
the clouds have cleared, and the sun has set quietly; but the
danger was not gone – it was only delayed. The long-threatening storm is sure to break at last. There is analogy between
the moral and physical atmosphere.”
“Well, Mr. Moore” (so these conferences always ended),
“take care of yourself. If you think that I have ever done you
any good, reward me by promising to take care of yourself.”
“I do; I will take close and watchful care. I wish to live, not
to die. The future opens like Eden before me; and still, when
I look deep into the shades of my paradise, I see a vision that
I like better than seraph or cherub glide across remote vistas.”
“Do you? Pray, what vision?”
“I see”
The maid came bustling in with the tea things.
The early part of that May, as we have seen, was fine; the
middle was wet; but in the last week, at change of moon, it
cleared again. A fresh wind swept off the silver-white, deeppiled rain clouds, bearing them, mass on mass, to the eastern
horizon, on whose verge they dwindled, and behind whose rim
they disappeared, leaving the vault behind all pure blue space,
ready for the reign of the summer sun. That sun rose broad on
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SHIRLEY
Whitsuntide. The gathering of the schools was signalized by
splendid weather.
Whit-Tuesday was the great day, in preparation for which
the two large schoolrooms of Briarfield, built by the present rector, chiefly at his own expense, were cleaned out, whitewashed,
repainted, and decorated with flowers and evergreens – some
from the rectory garden, two cartloads from Fieldhead, and a
wheelbarrowful from the more stingy domain of De Walden,
the residence of Mr. Wynne. In these schoolrooms twenty tables, each calculated to accommodate twenty guests, were laid
out, surrounded with benches, and covered with white cloths.
Above them were suspended at least some twenty cages, containing as many canaries, according to a fancy of the district,
specially cherished by Mr. Helstone’s clerk, who delighted in
the piercing song of these birds, and knew that amidst confusion of tongues they always carolled loudest. These tables, be
it understood, were not spread for the twelve hundred scholars to be assembled from the three parishes, but only for the
patrons and teachers of the schools. The children’s feast was
to be spread in the open air. At one o’clock the troops were to
come in; at two they were to be marshalled; till four they were
to parade the parish; then came the feast, and afterwards the
meeting, with music and speechifying in the church.
Why Briarfield was chosen for the point of rendezvous –
the scene of the fête – should be explained. It was not because
it was the largest or most populous parish – Whinbury far
outdid it in that respect; nor because it was the oldest, antique
as were the hoary church and rectory – Nunnely’s low-roofed
temple and mossy parsonage, buried both in coeval oaks, out-
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CHARLOTTE BRONTE
standing sentinels of Nunnwood, were older still. It was simply
because Mr. Helstone willed it so, and Mr. Helstone’s will was
stronger than that of Boultby or Hall; the former could not,
the latter would not, dispute a point of precedence with their
resolute and imperious brother. They let him lead and rule.
This notable anniversary had always hitherto been a trying
day to Caroline Helstone, because it dragged her perforce into
public, compelling her to face all that was wealthy, respectable, influential in the neighbourhood; in whose presence,
but for the kind countenance of Mr. Hall, she would have appeared unsupported. Obliged to be conspicuous; obliged to
walk at the head of her regiment as the rector’s niece, and first
teacher of the first class; obliged to make tea at the first table
for a mixed multitude of ladies and gentlemen, and to do all
this without the countenance of mother, aunt, or other chaperon – she, meantime, being a nervous person, who mortally
feared publicity – it will be comprehended that, under these
circumstances, she trembled at the approach of Whitsuntide.
But this year Shirley was to be with her, and that changed
the aspect of the trial singularly – it changed it utterly. It was a
trial no longer – it was almost an enjoyment. Miss Keeldar was
better in her single self than a host of ordinary friends. Quite
self-possessed, and always spirited and easy; conscious of her
social importance, yet never presuming upon it – it would be
enough to give one courage only to look at her. The only fear
was lest the heiress should not be punctual to tryst. She often had a careless way of lingering behind time, and Caroline
knew her uncle would not wait a second for anyone. At the
moment of the church clock tolling two, the bells would clash
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SHIRLEY
out and the march begin. She must look after Shirley, then, in
this matter, or her expected companion would fail her.
Whit-Tuesday saw her rise almost with the sun. She, Fanny,
and Eliza were busy the whole morning arranging the rectory
parlours in first-rate company order, and setting out a collation of cooling refreshments – wine, fruit, cakes – on the dining room sideboard. Then she had to dress in her freshest and
fairest attire of white muslin: the perfect fineness of the day
and the solemnity of the occasion warranted, and even exacted,
such costume. Her new sash – a birthday present from Margaret Hall, which she had reason to believe Cyril himself had
bought, and in return for which she had indeed given him a
set of cambric bands in a handsome case – was tied by the dexterous fingers of Fanny, who took no little pleasure in arraying
her fair young mistress for the occasion. Her simple bonnet
had been trimmed to correspond with her sash; her pretty but
inexpensive scarf of white crape suited her dress. When ready
she formed a picture, not bright enough to dazzle, but fair
enough to interest; not brilliantly striking, but very delicately
pleasing – a picture in which sweetness of tint, purity of air,
and grace of mien atoned for the absence of rich colouring and
magnificent contour. What her brown eye and clear forehead
showed of her mind was in keeping with her dress and face –
modest, gentle, and, though pensive, harmonious. It appeared
that neither lamb nor dove need fear her, but would welcome
rather, in her look of simplicity and softness, a sympathy with
their own natures, or with the natures we ascribe to them.
After all, she was an imperfect, faulty human being, fair
enough of form, hue, and array, but, as Cyril Hall said, neither
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CHARLOTTE BRONTE
so good nor so great as the withered Miss Ainley, now putting
on her best black gown and Quaker drab shawl and bonnet in
her own narrow cottage chamber.
Away Caroline went, across some very sequestered fields
and through some quite hidden lanes, to Fieldhead. She glided
quickly under the green hedges and across the greener leas.
There was no dust, no moisture, to soil the hem of her stainless
garment, or to damp her slender sandal. After the late rains all
was clean, and under the present glowing sun all was dry. She
walked fearlessly, then, on daisy and turf, and through thick
plantations; she reached Fieldhead, and penetrated to Miss
Keeldar’s dressing-room.
It was well she had come, or Shirley would have been too
late. Instead of making ready with all speed, she lay stretched
on a couch, absorbed in reading. Mrs. Pryor stood near, vainly
urging her to rise and dress. Caroline wasted no words. She
immediately took the book from her, and with her own hands
commenced the business of disrobing and re-robing her. Shirley, indolent with the heat, and gay with her youth and pleasurable nature, wanted to talk, laugh, and linger; but Caroline,
intent on being in time, persevered in dressing her as fast as
fingers could fasten strings or insert pins. At length, as she
united a final row of hooks and eyes, she found leisure to chide
her, saying she was very naughty to be so unpunctual, that she
looked even now the picture of incorrigible carelessness; and
so Shirley did, but a very lovely picture of that tiresome quality.
She presented quite a contrast to Caroline. There was style
in every fold of her dress and every line of her figure. The rich
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SHIRLEY
silk suited her better than a simpler costume; the deep embroidered scarf became her. She wore it negligently but gracefully.
The wreath on her bonnet crowned her well. The attention to
fashion, the tasteful appliance of ornament in each portion of
her dress, were quite in place with her. All this suited her, like
the frank light in her eyes, the rallying smile about her lips,
like her shaft-straight carriage and lightsome step. Caroline
took her hand when she was dressed, hurried her downstairs,
out of doors; and thus they sped through the fields, laughing
as they went, and looking very much like a snow-white dove
and gem-tinted bird of paradise joined in social flight.
Thanks to Miss Helstone’s promptitude, they arrived in
good time. While yet trees hid the church, they heard the bell
tolling a measured but urgent summons for all to assemble.
The trooping in of numbers, the trampling of many steps and
murmuring of many voices, were likewise audible. From a rising ground, they presently saw, on the Whinbury road, the
Whinbury school approaching. It numbered five hundred
souls. The rector and curate, Boultby and Donne, headed
it – the former looming large in full canonicals, walking as
became a beneficed priest, under the canopy of a shovel hat,
with the dignity of an ample corporation, the embellishment
of the squarest and vastest of black coats, and the support of
the stoutest of gold-headed canes. As the doctor walked, he
now and then slightly flourished his cane, and inclined his
shovel hat with a dogmatical wag towards his aide-de-camp.
That aide-de-camp – Donne, to wit – narrow as the line of his
shape was, compared to the broad bulk of his principal, contrived, notwithstanding, to look every inch a curate. All about
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CHARLOTTE BRONTE
him was pragmatical and self-complacent, from his turned-up
nose and elevated chin to his clerical black gaiters, his somewhat short, strapless trousers, and his square-toed shoes.
Walk on, Mr. Donne! You have undergone scrutiny. You
think you look well. Whether the white and purple figures
watching you from yonder hill think so is another question.
These figures come running down when the regiment has
marched by. The churchyard is full of children and teachers,
all in their very best holiday attire; and, distressed as is the
district, bad as are the times, it is wonderful to see how respectably, how handsomely even, they have contrived to clothe
themselves. That British love of decency will work miracles.
The poverty which reduces an Irish girl to rags is impotent to
rob the English girl of the neat wardrobe she knows necessary
to her self-respect. Besides, the lady of the manor – that Shirley, now gazing with pleasure on this well-dressed and happylooking crowd – has really done them good. Her seasonable
bounty consoled many a poor family against the coming holiday, and supplied many a child with a new frock or bonnet
for the occasion. She knows it, and is elate with the consciousness – glad that her money, example, and influence have really, substantially, benefited those around her. She cannot be
charitable like Miss Ainley: it is not in her nature. It relieves
her to feel that there is another way of being charitable, practicable for other characters, and under other circumstances.
Caroline, too, is pleased, for she also has done good in her
small way – robbed herself of more than one dress, ribbon, or
collar she could ill spare, to aid in fitting out the scholars of
her class; and as she could not give money, she has followed
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SHIRLEY
Miss Ainley’s example in giving her time and her industry to
sew for the children.
Not only is the churchyard full, but the rectory garden is
also thronged. Pairs and parties of ladies and gentlemen are
seen walking amongst the waving lilacs and laburnums. The
house also is occupied: at the wide-open parlour windows
gay groups are standing. These are the patrons and teachers,
who are to swell the procession. In the parson’s croft, behind
the rectory, are the musicians of the three parish bands, with
their instruments. Fanny and Eliza, in the smartest of caps and
gowns, and the whitest of aprons, move amongst them, serving out quarts of ale, whereof a stock was brewed very sound
and strong some weeks since by the rector’s orders, and under
his special superintendence. Whatever he had a hand in must
be managed handsomely. “Shabby doings” of any description
were not endured under his sanction. From the erection of a
public building, a church, school, or courthouse, to the cooking of a dinner, he still advocated the lordly, liberal, and effective. Miss Keeldar was like him in this respect, and they mutually approved each other’s arrangements.
Caroline and Shirley were soon in the midst of the compa-
ny. The former met them very easily for her. Instead of sitting
down in a retired corner, or stealing away to her own room till
the procession should be marshalled, according to her wont,
she moved through the three parlours, conversed and smiled,
absolutely spoke once or twice ere she was spoken to, and, in
short, seemed a new creature. It was Shirley’s presence which
thus transformed her; the view of Miss Keeldar’s air and manner did her a world of good. Shirley had no fear of her kind, no
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CHARLOTTE BRONTE
tendency to shrink from, to avoid it. All human beings – men,
women, or children – whom low breeding or coarse presumption did not render positively offensive, were welcome enough
to her – some much more so than others, of course; but, generally speaking, till a man had indisputably proved himself
bad and a nuisance, Shirley was willing to think him good and
an acquisition, and to treat him accordingly. This disposition
made her a general favourite, for it robbed her very raillery of
its sting, and gave her serious or smiling conversation a happy
charm; nor did it diminish the value of her intimate friendship, which was a distinct thing from this social benevolence –
depending, indeed, on quite a different part of her character.
Miss Helstone was the choice of her affection and intellect; the
Misses Pearson, Sykes, Wynne, etc., etc., only the profiteers by
her good-nature and vivacity.
Donne happened to come into the drawing room while
Shirley, sitting on the sofa, formed the centre of a tolerably
wide circle. She had already forgotten her exasperation against
him, and she bowed and smiled good-humouredly. The disposition of the man was then seen. He knew neither how to
decline the advance with dignity, as one whose just pride has
been wounded, nor how to meet it with frankness, as one who
is glad to forget and forgive. His punishment had impressed
him with no sense of shame, and he did not experience that
feeling on encountering his chastiser. He was not vigorous
enough in evil to be actively malignant – he merely passed
by sheepishly with a rated, scowling look. Nothing could ever
again reconcile him to his enemy; while no passion of resent-
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